Caged
by FabledUkester
Summary: By day he's Jake Pitts, softspoken lead guitarist of Black Veil Brides. By night he's an elusive cage dancer, unleashing his hidden desires under a second name.But what if his two worlds collided?What would become of his life? I'm a horrible summarizer
1. What's Right, What's Wrong, and

**(Author's Note:) I haven't written a fanfiction in like, 10 thousand years. IchBinJayne_BVB on Twitter gave me this idea. To put it in her words, "We all love a bit of caged Jake." …Black Veil Brides fans who are all scary dedicated, please don't shoot me. Just try to be nice. We ALL love a bit of caged Jake, deep down inside us. :D Let's all sit back and enjoy a future onslaught of awkward love triangles and battles to cover nightlives, and of course, Jake getting naked. Thank you and goodbye.**

**~Livi Luxury**

Chapter One: What's Right, What's Wrong, and What He Loves

"Hey baby, where ya going, sweet thing?" Jake started to walk a little faster. Small raindrops started to speckle his arms and the back of his neck. _Bloody hell._ Footsteps were coming up on his left. He glanced over his shoulder to find the man trying to follow him was right behind him. Jake sucked in a breath, hitched up his backpack, and broke into a slight run. He didn't dare look back, ignoring the man's voice calling him. As he blindly went to jaywalk to safety across a street well out of his way home from work, there was a bright light and a blaring horn. He jumped backwards and narrowly missed getting splattered all over the road by the city bus speeding down the empty street. "Holy Jesus," he breathed, but the last bit of exhale caught in his throat when two hands grabbed his shoulders from behind.

Before Jake knew what was happening, he was against the wall across the sidewalk, held there by a nauseating weasel-faced man in a pinstriped suit. "What's the matter, sexy? Scared to take what I wanna give you?" he hissed in Jake's face. Jake could clearly smell his last expensive cigar lingering on his breath. "Let me go!"

"Quite a show you put on there," his captor drawled, ignoring him. Jake bared his teeth. "You have ten seconds to let me go, or I'm gonna scream at the top of my lungs, and the woman in that apartment building behind you with her window open on the fifteenth floor will hear, and she'll call the police." The expensive-looking man laughed, then made a horribly macabre mock-pouting face. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Don't you wanna go back to my place, have a scotch or two, show me some more of those moves?"

Jake thought quickly. _If I can just get this guy to take a step to his left, and turn his head just a little bit to the right… _He waited patiently, shuffling his feet nervously. The man started sneering more rotten things about Jake's potential "talent". After a few well-bided moments of time, Jake's captor took the desired motion of emphasis Jake was waiting for. He acted quickly and clocked the creeper in the face. "Eugh!" the man cried as he reeled backwards. Jake took the opportunity and made a break for it, sprinting around half a mile before he dared rest, bent over wheezing.

"I'm gonna be sick," Jake breathed, kneeling on the curb breathlessly. After a minute or two of focusing on regulating his heartbeat, he didn't puke, and got up to keep walking. The raindrops gently hitting him started to become larger. _Shit._ "Just what I need," he snarled, trudging onward. As he wandered on, the rain got heavier. Less than a block later, Jake was getting drenched and pummeled by fast, large, cold raindrops. "What else could go wrong today…" As if in response to his rhetorical half-question, lightning suddenly slashed the sky apart and thunder crashed overhead. Jake kept walking, biting back his rage. It took a few minutes for him to realize he was crying. Sighing in frustration, he agitatedly rubbed his eyes and walked faster. "Get ahold of yourself, Jake, you're being a wuss…" His own words didn't encourage him; rather, they made him start sobbing.

When Jake finally reached his apartment building, he dashed inside, covering himself with his backpack and running to the elevator before anyone saw him in his work clothes.

Jake looked in the mirror in disgust. His exotic "stage makeup"—honestly more of a mask to hide his day identity—was streaming down his soaked face. His hair had fallen down around his eyeliner-stained pathetic face, giving him all the physical appeal of a drowned whore. The skimpy studded leather outfit he was wearing was still intact and very flattering, however. He stripped off his clothes, sighing with relief as the leather straps and metal chains no longer constricted him. "I'm disgusting," he said softly to himself as he stared at the skanky getup discarded on his bathroom floor, "but…y'know what? I like it." Jake turned back to the mirror and smiled as he put on a T-shirt and boxers. A brief washing of his face and a tousle of his hair, and Jake was once again Jake Pitts of Black Veil Brides, and not Tiger Cage, his nighttime alter-ego who worked the cages at Tomcat, a strip club for naughty ladies and for naughty boy-loving boys willing to pay a little extra.

"What do you want?" CC's voice muttered sleepily on the other line.

Jake coughed slightly. "CC, can I talk to you?"

There was a pause. "…Jake, it's 5:30am. Go to sleep."

Jake briefly clutched his forehead. "CC… Please."

Another pause went by. "…Fine. Five minutes."

"Okay… CC, have you ever… Do you ever wonder if what you love might not be what's right?"

"Nah, man. Everything you love is right to you, ya dig?"

"…No, CC, I… I actually don't."

"Look, bro. Do what you like. That's, like, the meaning of life, or…something."

"Or something?"

Pause. "Kay, look… It's either the meaning of life, or something a midget rabbi told me in a prophetic dream about me breaking into your house and feeding your hypothetical cat pistachios."

Jake had nothing to say to this.

"…WAIT. Oh my god, Jake. What if it was BOTH? …I gotta find your cat, dude! That could've been Jesus, y'know?"

"No… No I don't."

" THE PISTACHIOS WERE THE TEN COMMANDMENTS!"

"…Are you on drugs?"

"Haha, nah man, I'm just crazy."

"CC?"

"Jake?"

"…Go back to sleep."

Jake hung up, frustrated. Why had he called CC of all people for advice? CC wasn't helpful… He was just confusing_. Or is that confusion reality, and I was just un-confusing myself by talking to CC? What if CC is, like…the prophet of reality? Heck, what if CC is the _messiah_ of reality? If CC is the messiah of reality, saving me…does that mean I am a sinner convicted with the unholy act of confusion? Forgive me, CC, for I have confused myself… Wait. WHAT?_

He stopped thinking and massaged his temple. Jake had just given himself a pounding headache. "Ugh, CC, you're rubbing off on me…" he groaned. "…I should really go to bed before I kill myself."

Two Advil and a glass of water later, Jake finally retired to his bed. When the lights were out, however, all thoughts of sleep escaped him. He stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, head still throbbing, ceiling spinning as he stared dizzily at the light fixture, CC's words swimming through his liquefied mind hauntingly.

_Everything you love is right to you, ya dig?_

Jake really hoped it was…


	2. Bad Decisions

**(Author's Note:) OKAY. Fine. Here it is. CHAPTER TWO. This chapter is full of pain, sexy, and alcohol-induced heart-to-hearts. Read responsibly. That means try to keep from crying tears of joy until the end. Jayne, this one's for you. Oh, and guys, try not to hate me for slight less-than-straight atmosphere. I am most definitely not implying Jake is gay. At the most, leave it at "bicurious". Okay here um bye.**

**~Livi Luxuryy.**

Jake woke up around noon, sweating and confused. He'd just dreamt about dancing for some strange messed-up depiction of CC as Jesus. "Good morning, world…" he muttered sleepily. "Mother of God, I need to get a cat, so I can stop talking to myself as if I'm in some creepy fangirl's wet dream of a dramatic fanfiction where I make bad decisions and get naked a lot." Jake paused awkwardly after he said this, then laughed. "Okay, that's enough twisted monologue for one morning."

After a quick shower, he stood examining himself in the mirror. A few little agitated-looking tracks across his shoulders from being whipped, a pale yellow bruise on his hip from managing to trip over a table. Sub-typical injuries… It had been a slow night. The upcoming night was what he was worried about. Tonight, it was Circus Freak's turn to whip the living hell out of Tiger Cage in front of their large Saturday-night crowd. Jake gingerly rubbed his thigh, thinking about when his coworker had once gotten a bit too creative with the whip, drawing blood in latticed slashes across Jake's thighs. He shuddered, proceeding onward with his morning rituals.

_INCOMING CALL: CC. _Jake answered without hesitation, in a better mood than the previous night. "Hey man."

"I'm lonely… Come get sushi with me?"

"…I could eat. That place where we usually go, next to that other place?"

"Yeah. See you in ten minutes."

Twenty minutes later, the two bandmates were catching up over lunch. "Excited for tour next week?" "Totally." As they ate quietly, Jake sort of zoned out looking over CC's shoulder. "So yesterday I-" "OH SHIT." As soon as CC had spoken, Jake realized who his eyes had rested on, two tables away. "What?" Jake didn't answer, staring and nearly gibbering in shock. It was the guy who had tried to get in Jake's pants the previous night after work. He quickly looked away and stuffed a huge piece of sushi in his mouth, buying time to think. "Uh… I bit my tongue." "Alrighttt…" CC looked at him warily. "…Anyway. So what are we gonna make Ashley do after getting him drunk this tour?" CC pondered this thoughtfully. "Make him chug a jar of mayonnaise again?" "YES." They exchanged an excited glance. "I'm so psyched." Jake glanced behind CC again, locked eyes with his stalker, and quickly ducked his head down, wolfing down three more pieces of sushi. "Hungry?" "...Um, yeah." There was an awkward silence. "Wanna order a couple sakes?" Jake paused to gulp down the last piece of sushi stuck in his throat, then shook his head. He didn't drink on work nights till at least halfway through his shift. "Nah, man…" "Is there something wrong? You never turn down liquor." "No. I just… I should get going…" Jake started to collect himself to leave. "Why are you in such a hurry?" "…Dentist appointment." He threw his half of the check on the table and quickly bolted out.

After this incident, Jake spent the day sulking in his room.

That evening…

Jake fixed his last couple whiskers with an eyeliner brush. Now his mask of makeup was perfect. He smiled, admiring the elaborate and very ornate design of his tiger mask, shaking out his hair a little. The outfit he was wearing tonight was just spectacular. It consisted of leather straps laced around him to barely cover his intimacies. Two studded straps came down from the back of his neck and down along his ribs, exposing his nipples quite profoundly. These straps met with another strip of leather low around his hips, which in the front attached to a tight black material sling for housing what he didn't usually show until after his shift when attractive ladies asked very nicely. In the back, everything was exposed down to the band on the widest part of his hips once again, but this time there was a studded thong strap to tie it all together. With it he wore matching leather garters and fishnet stockings, with knee-high black boots.

He smiled in the mirror. "Just fabulous." Turning around to glimpse at his highly exposed rear in the mirror, Jake grimaced slightly. "Time to go get whipped and humiliated until I bleed…"

At work…

Jake slowly climbed his way up the steel bars and humped the cage ceiling, bringing forth many cheers from his crowd. He crawled along and did a backbend, grasping the bars far below him, then making his way down the cage upside down, wriggling sexily to the club music. He spread his legs dramatically, grappling to the bars of another wall with one of his boot heels. Many more moves were performed, riling up all the women and amusing the rich gay men clustered at the back tables with their fancy martinis and cigars. Suddenly, the music stopped and the cage door opened behind him. Jake tried not to squirm too much.

Circus Freak introduced himself to the crowd and then smiled evilly, getting ready to abuse Jake for everyone's entertainment. He grinned at Jake. "On your hands and knees," he said softly. Jake sighed and put on the sexiest smile he could, sinking to all fours. Jake's coworker slowly took out his whip and, without warning, cracked it across Jake's rear. Jake yelped, then moaned. This was one of the things Jake didn't have to fake in the club. There was something about pain that had always tickled Jake's fancy. Everyone was interested now… Freak whipped him again, forcing out a louder moan. Again and again he did this, producing more sounds of pleasure from Jake.

From outside the cage door, his coworker produced a small wooden chair, like the ones lion tamers use in the circus. He cracked his whip across Jake's thighs, summoning him to his feet. "In the chair, this way, on your knees." Jake obeyed, awaiting his next dealing of harsh abuse. Circus Freak prowled around to the back of the chair where Jake's hands were grasping the bars before suddenly grabbing his wrists and producing a pair of handcuffs, quickly binding him to the chair. Grinning, Freak started whipping him, pulling his hair, grinding on him, pinching at him, and, humiliatingly, spanking him. Jake cried out at each dose of pain, enjoying how worthless he felt. Circus Freak refused to stop until Jake screamed. After this, he released Jake and pushed the chair forward, tipping Jake out of it, then turned it facedown, forming a triangle between the seat, chair back, and floor. He whipped Jake harshly three times across his back and forced Jake on top of the toppled chair, on his hands and knees. "Hump." Jake looked at him strangely. "Go on, hump the chair…" Freak coaxed, cracking the whip in the air. Jake unsurely followed the order, being as sexy as possible about it, soft moans and suggestive grins included. Circus Freak whipped him across the backside again. Jake cried out shrilly with a mix of pain and pleasure, moving faster against the chair. Circus Freak watched this with amusement, warningly raising his weapon occasionally to make Jake more enthusiastic. The crowd watched, practically drooling.

Freak brutally kicked Jake in the side with one heavy steel-toed boot and rolled him over with his foot, collecting the chair. Jake whined softly, but remained composed, waiting on his knees. His coworker and master pushed the chair upright and sat in it, spreading his legs apart. "Come here, big boy…" he coaxed maliciously, beckoning Jake. Wary, Jake came forward. "In my lap." He nodded, parting Freak's knees a little further and sitting in his lap. Circus Freak softly smacked Jake's rear, holding him a little closer. He leaned over to kiss and suck Jake's neck, and Jake gave the usual exaggerated moans and sighs, wrapping his legs around Freak's waist. The sudden man-on-man definitely fired up the crowd. "Get down on the floor for me, let me smack you around, baby…" he ordered audibly for the crowd, giving Jake a push. Jake fell on his hands and knees, steeling himself to be badly bruised.

He was cruelly and repeatedly whipped, his genuine pleasure making their audience excited. Freak kicked him and beat him and generally smacked him around, treating him harshly, really making Jake get sexy. This went on for a very long time, the beatings and whippings growing increasingly worse.

Finally, Jake's coworker finished abusing him for the night. He kicked Jake crushingly hard in the side again, and Jake gasped and whimpered. Freak then left the cage, and Jake quickly followed out the door to freedom, even as bruised, bleeding, and limping as he was.

Jake fixed himself up in the back dressing room, cringing as he washed out his cuts and lacerations with stinging cold water. His back, rear, and thighs were covered in red angry slash marks. As he twisted to examine his leg, he nearly screamed in pain. Jake looked at where he'd been kicked before to find a huge purple patch gradually deepening in color, right in the fleshy part of his left side. He softly put a finger to the bruise and winced, making a soft pained sound. Circus Freak had kicked him hard. "Just a bruise," he reassured himself, sighing and dabbing his teary eyes with a tissue. Jake put on his trench coat over his considerably small amount of clothing and collected his bag, ready to head home.

As he was limping back out, an attractive young blonde suddenly attacked him with a kiss, wrapping her legs around his waist, her tongue down his throat, acrylic nails digging into his neck. Jake tried not to wince when her leg squeezed his bruise, and he pulled away grinning. "You're sexy," the girl said softly, smiling at him. "Thank you, dear. Come back Friday and I'll probably be getting naked." He put her down gently and started towards the exit.

"Great show, Tiger." Jake turned quickly to find his boss standing behind him.

"Thanks, Ellie. I'd better get going… Am I working tomorrow?"

"No, I put Eye Candy in the cages. It's been a while since we've seen his little white ass."

Jake smiled. "Thanks."

He limped his way about half a mile home until his side started throbbing, forcing him to call a cab.

The next thing Jake remembered was sobbing on his bed with a fresh bottle of whiskey clutched tightly in his hand, a few sips missing. He slapped himself sharply, forcing a whimper from his own startled mouth. "Get ahold of yourself, Jake, you're being a girl… Drink it away and go to bed." After a pause, he sighed. "No, Jake, talk to someone about this. When you depressively drink, you do stupid things and make your situation worse." Jake picked up his phone and glanced at it.

"Who to call… CC? He was no help yesterday. Jinxx? Nah, he can be a jerk sometimes… Andy? No, that's stupid, he's usually more of an emotional wreck than I am… Matt? Drunk and in a ditch somewhere. Hm… Ashley? Worth a try…"

"Hello?"

"Ashley… Thank god."

"…But I swore to dyslexic I wasn't god… No, wait… I dyslexic swear I… God dyslexia I wasn't swore… Um, that's not right… Dyslexic god wasn't swore but… Damn it."

"…Ashley, are you drunk?"

"Ashley, I'm not, I… OH WAIT! Haha, I'M Ashley, you're… What's yer… I can't remember…"

"…Yep. You're drunk."

"'M not drunk… Juss' a little…..tipsy…"

"Oh, whatever. Can you talk for a little while?"

"Uh… Juss' a sec, lemme see what time it is… Let's see, 's backwards five…dot…three… Oops, I missed a dot, _two_ dots, three…. Nine… No, seven… Nine… Seven… Nine… Seven... I can't… What _is_ that? It's so—"

"ASHLEY. It's 2:39am."

"Oh, thirty-two and a nine… Alright, plenty of time to talk. What's up?"

"Oh, just… Drinking a little… Sobbing… Just… Oh Jesus, Ashley, I'm a wreck..." Jake had broken down into fresh sobs.

"Hey, hey, baby… Shhh… Don't you get your pretty little head all wet…"

Jake continued to cry, sobs lessening.

"Deep breaths, honey… Deep breaths…"

He obeyed, closing his eyes and breathing in and out slowly.

"Better?"

"Yeah… A lot better. Thanks, Ashley."

"No problem, sugar. Now, tell Uncle Sexy what's wrong…"

Jake took the phone away from his ear a moment, mouthing "UNCLE SEXY?" incredulously. Ashley was a weird drunk. "Well… I just… Let's just say I made a bad decision and I got a little roughed up…"

"'Roughed up'? Baby, who's been touching you? I'll relocate his eyes to his ass! I swear, I-"

"Ashley, Ashley, it's fine. It was kind of my fault. I just… Ugh, I'm such a disaster."

"Alright, Jakey, honey pie… I'll tell you what to do. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Are you wearing pants?"

The last hour had been a blur. Jake looked down to check… "Yeah, I'm wearing pants."

"Okay… Take 'em off."

"Wha—"

"DO IT."

Jake put down the phone and whiskey for a moment to remove his pajama pants.

"Are they off?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Now, you drinking?"

"Mmhm…" Jake rubbed the neck of the whiskey bottle with his thumb absently.

"Perfect. Now, take what it is yer breathing—I mean, _drinking_, haha, breathing, drinking, big difference, how could I be so stupid… OKAY. So take what yer drinkin'…"

"Yes?"

"Chug down the whole damned bottle. Get yourself trashed. Pain doesn't exist when you're wasted, baby… I think I broke my nose hitting my face on the wall cause I thought it was the door… But now I'm so drunk it feels great."

Jake sighed. "…Alright. Thanks, Ash. I'm just gonna drink myself stupid."

"That's the spirit! Call me in the morning, tell me how you feel, sweetheart. Mwah." Ashley hung up.

With a sigh of relief, Jake stood for a moment to go close his window. There was a lonely pedestrian walking by very slowly… His face was turned up to Jake's apartment window. As he walked away, Jake nearly dropped his whiskey bottle. It was _him. _The guy who'd nearly raped Jake and then showed up at the sushi place. "Oh god, I'm gonna faint…" Jake finished closing the curtains and stumbled backwards on his bed. He put his head between his knees. When he felt steady enough, Jake grabbed the bottle of whiskey and started chugging.

Pretty soon, Jake passed out, absolutely inebriated.


End file.
